Your Old Heart
by bellibelle
Summary: Sequel to Safe with Me. Klaine AU. How do you heal a broken heart? Can you ever hope to erase the pain of love lost, fate ignored, destiny shattered? Do you stand a chance at healing when half of your heart lies in someone else's chest?
1. Barely beating at all

**Summary: **AU Klaine. How do you heal a broken heart? Can you ever hope to erase the pain of love lost, fate ignored, destiny shattered? Do you stand a chance at healing when half of your heart lies in someone else's chest?  
**Author's Note:** Lyrics by The Oh Hellos. Blaine and Kurt are not mine but this universe is. This is a four-part sequel to the story Safe With Me. _Please_ read Safe With Me first. I promise this will make a lot more sense if you do! :) Enjoy and please review, if you'd like.

* * *

**PART ONE**

**_Hello, my old heart  
How have you been?_**  
**_Are you still there inside my chest?_**

* * *

Kurt Hummel knew a thing or two about fairy tales. He dreamt of castles and adventure, princes and romance and true love. How could he not? He grew up watching Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and the Little Mermaid; singing along to every song, wishing his life could be so perfect. More than anything, Kurt wanted to find his happily ever after. The problem was, as he grew up, he realized that life was nothing like his fairytales. No, while Kurt imagined himself as Cinderella, Aurora, Ariel, he was no closer to finding his handsome prince. But he kept dreaming.

Was he waiting for some tall, dark, handsome man to sweep him off his feet? Did he long to be saved? Maybe so. Maybe after growing up in a close-minded, ignorant Ohio town, Kurt dreamt of an escape, a hero, a prince.

When Kurt realized that he had more in common with the girls in his class than the boys and that, every so often, he would get butterflies in his stomach when he thought about _kissing_ the boys, he began to understand why he dreamt of being a princess, not a prince.

Kurt never imagined, not in his dreams or his nightmares, that he would have to choose between two princes. The idea that he could find not one, but two incredible men willing to be his hero, his happily ever after, was unfathomable. And yet, as he graduated from Northwestern, Kurt Hummel was engaged to and in love with a wonderful guy. The only problem was, his fiancée wasn't the only boy he loved.

* * *

"I can't believe we're doing this!" Drew exclaimed, throwing his last shoe unceremoniously into a cardboard box. "I can't believe we are actually doing this!"

Blaine smiled as he continued reorganizing the boxes Drew had packed so sloppily in his excitement. Smiling was a new and bizarre thing, and yet it felt familiar somehow. Like conversations with old friends, stilted at first but eventually falling back to past effortlessness, moving his muscles to form a smile was a strange sensation.

There was a time when Blaine was described as smiley and cheerful, giddy even. Those who knew him best teased him for his sunny optimism, his always-positive disposition that brightened the lives of others.

But that was a time before Kurt Hummel. Before heartbreak and loss, before destiny and devastation. Before Blaine gave up on the love of his life, he was impossibly happy. But after Kurt, things changed. After he chose friendship over love, Blaine became bitter because, really, how could he not? Sarcasm and scowls took precedence over the smiling, joyful declarations of the past. Blaine spent more and more time with Drew, who, in spite of Blaine's insistence that Drew was pessimistic, maintained that he was a realist through and through. And so Drew's pessim-, er _realism_ rubbed off on Blaine, as did his passion for tragic movies, melancholic poetry and chain-smoking.

Time went by, though, and as Blaine began to focus more on journalism and less on music - and with it a certain countertenor - his surliness faded. Kurt was preoccupied with his own classes, too, and with his new engagement, and so the two who used to spend countless hours in each other's company barely managed to have weekly lunches. For a while, they hardly spoke; each boy understanding that it was easier to move on when they were apart. They had finally come to the realization that that was exactly what they had to do: move on.

A part of Blaine had always hoped that he would end up with Kurt; he had expected it, really. But, in light of recent events, Blaine began to understand that destiny wasn't a sure thing at all. Maybe there was a component of destiny and fate that was out of his control; maybe the stars aligned occasionally and interfered; yeah, okay, whatever. Blaine could no longer deny, however, that there was a huge part of all of that meant-to-be nonsense that could be altered by choice and circumstance and sacrifice.

Blaine stopped his organizing to look up at his former, and future, roommate, and ask, "Are you still counting down the hours?"

Drew chuckled and nodded, replying, "Seventy-four and counting!" Blaine laughed in response and resumed repacking Drew's things.

* * *

Erik and Kurt agreed that they were in no rush to get married. It was enough to say that they were engaged. And, after all, they had the rest of their lives to be married, what difference would a year or two make? They decided on a long engagement, because they weren't in a hurry. They weren't going anywhere.

Maybe, years later, Erik and Kurt could both look back on their engagement and understand the true meaning behind their hesitation. They would acknowledge that they were stalling because they were afraid and unsure. They would understand that something - their head or their heart or their fate - was holding them back, telling them that something wasn't right. But, in that moment, when both boys were convinced that they were meant to get married, the told themselves it was just waiting until the moment was right...right?

Trust was not something that came easily to Kurt Hummel. When he was a boy, he trusted everything and everyone. He trusted that the world would treat him gently; that people would be kind and friendly, that happiness would be well within his reach, that he would be accepted and welcomed and loved. He trusted that his mother would be there for him always, to hold his hand and push him forward into the strange, scary world. He trusted easily, without reservation or doubt. But then, every reason he had to trust the world was ripped from him.

His mother, whom he trusted to stay with him, left the world for good. His classmates, whom he trusted to accept him, quirks and all, called him names and pushed him around, taking his trust and abusing it, crushing it.

So, Kurt had trust issues. When he entered college, he saw the world through wiser, jaded eyes. He expected the worst and most unfair, and yet still hoped for something more.

The one thing above all else that Kurt struggled to trust was love. He was a hopeless romantic, to be sure, but he was afraid, so very afraid, that he would never find love. Or, worse, that he would find love, that he would trust love, and that it would hurt him once more.

With reservations aplenty, Kurt waltzed into his music theory class in the first week of his freshman year, ready to be free of the bullies and ghosts of Lima, Ohio. After pining after the very straight quarterback for four years, Kurt was ready to redefine himself. Kurt Hummel would not be governed by his love for some guy. He would have new priorities and motivations. He would pursue his passions and chase his dreams. He would soak up everything Northwestern had to offer. He would not be distracted by anyone or anything. He was convinced and dedicated and sure. And then he met Blaine Anderson.

* * *

"So, I think we should talk." Erik greeted Kurt as he walked into the kitchen of the apartment they had shared for the past few months. After their engagement, the two decided that, while they didn't want to rush down the aisle, living together was a step they could take right away. With Blaine's impending travel plans, Erik was down a roommate, so the pair had begun apartment searching, planning their future together.

Their new domestic bliss suited both boys perfectly. Erik surprised Kurt with a small but beautiful upright piano, on which Kurt spent many a night playing for his boyfriend. Kurt left notes for Erik everywhere: on the fridge and countertops and mirrors and on his pillow. The constant togetherness did nothing to discourage affection; instead, it reminded both men why they had fallen for the other. Erik, with his steadfast loyalty and generous spirit and Kurt, spirited and sarcastic and good to the core, grew together in spite of the drama and conflict of the previous years.

But Blaine's announcement had left the apartment in a funk. Both Erik and Kurt were mourning the move for their own reasons. After weeks of feeling down, and noticing Kurt's sad attempts to cover up his tears, Erik decided something had to give.

"Okay…" Kurt hesitated as he set his messenger bag on the ground by the door, taken aback by Erik's formal greeting. Erik noticed Kurt's apprehension and smiled, taking him by the hand, kissing him on the cheek, and leading him to a chair at the kitchen table. Kurt returned his smile, even more confused, and nodded to show he was ready to talk, come what may.

Erik set Kurt's hand on the table and ran his hand through his hair, blowing a puff of air out of his mouth and sighed. "This is probably a conversation we should have had ages ago," he began. "No, not probably. Definitely." Kurt looked puzzled as Erik went on, "It's been obvious to both of us for so long, and I guess with him leaving now it just made it unavoidable."

A look of understanding crossed Kurt's face as he realized what, and whom, Erik wanted to discuss. Erik looked pained as he continued, "I need you to remember that I love you, Kurt. Always."

Kurt frowned and began, "Erik, I-"

But Erik interrupted quietly, yet with force, "Can I finish, please?" Kurt nodded so, voice barely above a whisper, Erik continued, "I know you love him. That you are - or were or whatever - _in love _with him." Kurt made a pained noise but allowed Erik to go on, "And I'm not saying this because I want to break up, or because I'm mad or something. I have no right." Erik stood up and began slowly pacing the small kitchen, saying, "I knew. I always knew, but I never wanted to let you go."

Kurt's eyes had filled with tears and he sat, hurting and ashamed, as Erik said, "With Blaine going to New York, things can be different. I'm just as sad as anyone that he's leaving, but maybe we should see this as a fresh start, right?" He asked, seeking approval in Kurt's eyes. He walked over to his fiancé and sat next to him, taking Kurt's hands in his own. "For whatever crazy reason, you chose me. I don't understand it," Kurt let out a small laugh and Erik smiled a teary smile, "but you did. So we need to be completely open with each other." Kurt nodded vigorously as Erik added, "I won't fault you for the past, as long as you promise to always tell me how you feel. From now on, okay?"

Kurt wiped the tears off his cheek and he nodded, wrapping his arms around Erik and resting his chin on the boy's shoulder. "I'm so, _so_ sorry," he said quietly and Erik let out a noise halfway between a sigh and a sob.

They sat like that for what could have been days, holding each other. They whispered apologies and explanations and words of forgiveness and understanding. They did their best, as they always had, to let the past be the past. It wouldn't be easy, but they both believed their love to be strong enough and true enough to survive it.

They retreated to their bedroom, using their hands and lips and hearts to heal each other and themselves. They lay next to each other, hours later, talking and laughing until they cried, much happier tears then those shed hours before. With each joke and touch, they made progress. One step at a time, one kiss at a time, they moved forward, together.

* * *

It had all happened remarkably quickly, and no part of it fell into Blaine's plan; but, honestly, considering his track record, that might have been a good thing. Blaine was offered a place in Columbia's graduate program for journalism and Drew a place in an English graduate program at NYU; apartment hunting began and one-way plane tickets were purchased right after graduation. In a matter of weeks, both boys accepted their offers and changed their futures.

When Blaine looked back on it, he wondered if Drew hadn't been planning the whole thing all along. After Kurt and Erik's engagement, Drew had been more caring and concerned than Blaine could understand. Had it been coincidental that Drew applied to graduate schools in the same towns where Blaine was applying to journalism school? Was it mere happenstance that Drew suddenly wanted to move away, when he'd always professed his love for the Chicago area?

Blaine was thrilled to get his acceptance letter from Columbia, and only slightly suspicious when Drew was equally enthusiastic about the prospect of Blaine moving across the country. His suspicions were confirmed when, days later, he got a call from Drew. Blaine could barely make out "accepted," "grad school" and "NYU Baby" through all of the cheers and expletives.

Right before his eyes, Blaine's dreams of New York were becoming realities; his future was looking brighter than ever. Yet, none of it seemed real. It was as if he and Drew were actors in a play: taking on new roles, running their lines and acting out scenes. Blaine had to remind himself that he wasn't just pretending to plan a future in New York; he really was planning a future in New York. It was scary: the idea of leaving everything, and _everyone_, behind. The idea that one day soon, he and Kurt and Erik would be separated, not just by tension and unresolved feelings and busy schedules, but by cities and states and time zones scared Blaine more than he cared to admit; but, if he was being honest, since letting Kurt go, everything about the future had seemed a bit scary to Blaine.

* * *

**_I've been so worried  
You've been so still,_**  
**_Barely beating at all_**

* * *

Blaine wasn't sure which goodbye he was dreading more: Erik's or Kurt's. Erik would take it well; he would be his old reliable self: strong, comforting and sure. He would remind Blaine that miles might separate them, but they would always be best friends. He would capture Blaine in his strong arms and hug him tightly, holding back tears. He would promise to write and call and visit. He would reminisce about old times and imagine all of the amazing things Blaine would do in the Big Apple. He would, as always, make Blaine laugh even though he was about to cry. He was Erik, supporting Blaine was just part of who he was.

But how do you say goodbye to someone like Erik? Even though he would put on a strong face, Blaine knew it would be hard for Erik, too. The two of them may not have been as inseparable as in previous years, but nothing could erase the friendship that they had built; one of sacrifice and unconditional support and laughter and respect. Erik was a part of Blaine. Blaine couldn't remember who he was before he met Erik, before Erik was a vital part of his life, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to.

A part of him was glad that he would be saying goodbye to both of them at once. That way, there was no room for lingering hugs or words they would regret. In choosing New York, he was choosing to leave behind all of his history with Kurt, at least for a while. It was time that he started acting like Kurt was just his friend, just the boyfriend of his best friend, nothing more.

So, yes, he told himself. It was better this way. Even though a small part of him yearned for a few final minutes alone with Kurt, Blaine knew it was best to not open that can of worms.

As Blaine approached the coffee shop where friendships had been formed and hearts broken, he readied himself for the goodbyes he had feared for weeks. He opened the door and didn't find what he was expecting. Kurt was there and Erik was there, but that wasn't all. He looked around the shop and met the eyes of each and every one of his friends from school. Friends from choir and from journalism classes; friends he met on the bus and in the dorms and in that very coffee shop; professors with whom he had made special bonds and his major advisor and his favorite voice teacher. Everyone who had mattered to him in the past four years was in that coffee shop, holding a mug of coffee. Drew appeared at his side, holding his favorite mug and Erik appeared on his other side, presenting Blaine with a mug of his own.

Drew noticed Blaine's confused face as he eyed the mug in his hands and so he explained with a wry smile, "I guess they figured the whole champagne goodbye-toast was too cliche."

Blaine was speechless, lost for words and more touched than he could express.

Erik closed the door behind him and stood up on a stool, getting everyone's attention. "So, are you surprised?" he asked jokingly. Everyone laughed as Blaine smiled and nodded, still shocked. Erik chuckled and started his toast, "When I met Blaine, I couldn't have possible known what a great guy he was. After four years, I still don't quite know how I was lucky enough to meet him. Blaine is the most talented," Blaine met the eyes of his voice teacher who was beaming, "intelligent," Blaine's favorite professor was nodding, "kind," Drew clapped Blaine on the back, "and selfless," Blaine met Kurt's eyes and both boys looked away quickly, "person I have ever been lucky enough to call my friend."

Blaine returned his gaze to Erik as he went on, "Evanston will barely survive without you, Blaine. But our loss is New York's gain. Give 'em hell. And never forget, we all think you're the bee's knees."

Nods and exclamations of agreements came from all corners of the shop. Blaine heard a few "hear, hear's" and, as discreetly as he could with over thirty pairs of eyes on him, wiped away a tear. This was so much better than the goodbye he was expecting. Words failed him as he looked around at all these people who meant so much to him, and who clearly felt the same in return.

Not for the first time, he second-guessed his decision to leave this place and these people whom he loved. Then, as he heard snippets of Drew's excited description of their East Coast plans and glanced at Erik and Kurt's intertwined fingers and noted the curious tears that appeared in Kurt's eyes, clearly on the verge of spilling onto his lovely cheeks, he remembered: he really was doing the right thing for everyone.

Blaine spent the next few hours catching up with friends and colleagues and mentors, exchanging goodbyes and listening to everyone's advice for the future. Slowly his friends began to venture back into the Evanston air and only Erik and Drew and Kurt remained.

Drew cleaned up the dirty mugs, humming "New York, New York" to himself, winking at Blaine as he passed. Erik said all the things Blaine expected him to, but that didn't stop Blaine from getting teary-eyed. Kurt was busying himself with a couch cushion that couldn't be _that_ interesting, clearly giving them privacy, so Erik went one step further. He looked Blaine in the eye and, with sincerity, said, "Thank you, Blaine." He swallowed and continued, "I really can't say that enough. Thank you. For these past few years, for always being there for me, for Kurt…" His voice cracked as he said his fiancé's name and he trailed off, tears now falling from both boys' eyes.

Blaine nodded, unable to respond, but Erik understood how Blaine felt perfectly, as he always did. He gave Blaine one last hug, turned to Kurt and agreed to meet him outside, and, just like that, Kurt and Blaine were left alone.

Crying in earnest now, Blaine made his way over to Kurt and took him into his arms. Silent tears were falling from Kurt's eyes and the two embraced for what felt like hours and yet seconds at the same time. When they broke apart, Kurt started to speak but Blaine interrupted, "I'll miss you. So very much." Kurt let out a weak sob but Blaine went on, "Be happy, Kurt. _Please _be happy. That's all I really want."

Blaine gently brought his lips to Kurt's soft, tear streaked cheek and kissed him, so quickly it was as if it hadn't happened at all. The two locked eyes and Kurt began to speak again, "I just-"

BANG! Kurt jumped and Blaine turned around to see Drew, who had dropped several plates and mugs while trying to sneak by the pair. Drew apologized sheepishly, "Sorry to interrupt, fellas." He chuckled as he picked up the broken ceramics and shuffled away.

The illusion of privacy was broken, so Kurt hugged Blaine one last time and, before Blaine could say "goodbye," he was gone.

Drew reappeared instantly, taking the place Kurt had vacated, giving his friend the hug he knew he would need. "You okay?" he asked, concerned. Blaine nodded and the two made their way to the door.

It was time Blaine began to put the pieces of his life back together and he knew no better assistant than the poet walking at his side, cracking joke after joke until Blaine finally smiled a small, sad smile.

Drew watched Blaine carefully, his heart breaking for the best guy he knew. No matter what it took, he vowed, Blaine would be happy. He would find Blaine his happily ever after, if not in New York, then wherever they had to go. Because he couldn't bear the look in Blaine's eyes; the pain and sadness and resignation, and he wouldn't stop until it was gone.


	2. I want to find a home

**Summary: **AU Klaine. How do you heal a broken heart? Can you ever hope to erase the pain of love lost, fate ignored, destiny shattered? Do you stand a chance at healing when half of your heart lies in someone else's chest?  
**Author's Note:** Lyrics by The Oh Hellos. Blaine and Kurt are not mine but this universe is. This is a four-part sequel to the story Safe with Me. _Please_ read Safe with Me first. I promise this will make a lot more sense if you do! :) Enjoy and please review, if you'd like. The more reviews I get, the more I'll be motivated to post the third chapter! :)

* * *

**PART TWO**

**_Oh, don't leave me here alone  
Don't tell me that we've grown  
For having loved a little while_**

**_Oh, I don't want to be alone  
I want to find a home_**  
**_And I want to share it with you_**

* * *

Blaine wasn't running away from his past (well, okay, maybe he was running away a little), he was running to his future. It wasn't the future he had imagined, but it was something: a future where he would survive without Kurt, a future where he would pretend to be happy until he actually was.

Blaine knew that, above all else, he needed to forget. He had to forget the feelings of Kurt's lips on his; he needed to forget how sometimes, when they talked about the engagement, Kurt's eyes filled with tears, whether from sadness or happiness, Blaine had yet to determine; he needed to forget all the little things and all the big things, too. It was simply too painful, and unfair, to remember. With time, the pain of his loss dulled slightly, but he couldn't deny that each and every time he thought of Kurt, he felt an ache deep inside of him. Blaine knew he couldn't live the rest of his life with that kind of ache; the gut wrenching, blinding pain of loving someone in vain. Blaine needed, more than anything, to move on, to stop longing for Kurt and wishing things had turned out differently, to stop daydreaming about what could have been.

He had, after all, chosen this life. Blaine had his chance at happiness, but he couldn't take it. So, he could spend his life alone and miserable, or he could try - with tremendous effort every single day - to be happy without Kurt. Blaine needed to _forget_ to remember Kurt; because, he knew that as soon as thinking of Kurt was an occasional occurrence instead of an automatic reaction to anything and everything, _then _he will have moved on, _then_ he will have found happiness, or at least contentment, without him.

As much as it pained him, Blaine knew that he wouldn't, that he _couldn't_, get over Kurt if they spoke everyday, or every other day, or once a week. He needed distance and space and time to heal himself, to relearn how to be happy and normal and alone.

* * *

_"__Don't fret, my love," she said, the same words every time. "It will get better tomorrow. And tomorrow's tomorrow. Before you know it, the pain will be a flicker, a shadow, a memory. Life will go on, Blaine. And we will go on living it."_

Blaine had never been good at believing his mother.

When he was a kid, and it was the bullying and teasing that kept him up at night, crying into her shoulder, she told him it would be better tomorrow. But he knew that, no matter how pretty her words were, it would _not_ be better tomorrow. The bullies would still be cruel and their teasing would still hurt. He would sit alone at lunch and get pushed into lockers and it wouldn't be any better. It would take all the time in the world and not until college would he be able to escape their cruelty.

He didn't believe her when his best friend moved away, or when his puppy got hit by a car. He knew it wouldn't be better tomorrow when his grandpa died or when he broke his arm. And so, when he stopped returning his mother's calls and she came to Evanston to check on him and she used that same line, he, of course, didn't believe her; because tomorrow wouldn't erase the pain of yesterday. It wouldn't banish the regret of today. It wouldn't bring Kurt to him.

So, no, Blaine could not accept, could _never_ believe, that it would get better tomorrow.

But it would.

* * *

"I think it's time we get totally wasted." Drew said as he entered the kitchen, plopping himself down in one of their mismatched kitchen chairs.

"Well, hello to you, too!" Blaine replied, a smirk on his face, looking up from his laptop.

"You have been working on that paper for too long, my friend!" Drew banged his fist on the kitchen table as he repeated, "Too long! When's the last time we went out and got trashed and played strip darts with some cute undergrads? Hmm?"

Blaine rolled his eyes and shut his laptop, getting up to rinse out his coffee mug. "Drew, we've never gone out, gotten trashed and played strip darts with cute undergrads," he said, amused.

"Exactly!" Drew exclaimed and Blaine chuckled. "We are wasting out youth! We're young! We're gorgeous! We're in New _freaking_ York!" Blaine joined Drew at the table and continued to smile at Drew, his amusement evident.

"And look at you!" Drew raved, pointing at the boy sitting opposite him. "You're finally smiling and laughing and rolling your eyes at me again. I've got my best friend back. Old Blaine. Pre-disastrous love triangle Blaine."

Blaine sighed and said, "So, that's what we're calling it? Disastrous love triangle?" he asked, looking at Drew. Drew paused, unsure of what Blaine was thinking. Blaine laughed again, loudly and openly, and nodded his head, saying, "I suppose that's appropriate."

Drew laughed as well, patting Blaine once on his shoulder as he cried, "That's the spirit! I knew you were still in there somewhere!"

Blaine's smile faltered as he looked down and said, "Listen Drew, I know I haven't been the most fun roommate lately..." he paused, searching for the right words.

Before he could continue, Drew responded, "I'll stop you right there. You got your heart broken. Not just broken, really, but decimated." Blaine continued to stare at his hands as Drew went on, "You gave up your soul mate to make your best friend happy. And you're still standing and laughing and surviving. That's pretty damn impressive if you ask me." Blaine looked up and smiled weakly, the pain he'd been trying to ignore showing clearly in his eyes.

"So, don't apologize," Drew continued, "You're still Blaine and I'm still Drew. We've been through so much together, do you really think a few months of moping, of _moving_ _on_, could change that?" Blaine smiled bigger this time, and stood up to give Drew a hug.

They embraced quickly, with a pat on the back and a squeeze on the shoulder, and Blaine said softly and earnestly, "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Drew grinned and asked, "So you'll come out with me tonight? For old times sake!" Blaine's brow furrowed as he tried to determine to which old times Drew was referring exactly.

"Or for new times sake?!" Drew said, recognizing the doubt on Blaine's face. "We don't even have to go to a college bar. We'll be sophisticated, just for you."

Blaine hesitated before responding. _What would old Blaine do?_ He wondered. _Pre-disastrous love triangle Blaine?_ _He would go. He would have fun with his friend. He would enjoy life._

Maybe it was time new Blaine and old Blaine got reacquainted.

"Why not?" Blaine said and Drew cheered, "but nothing crazy."

Drew started doing the cha-cha around the kitchen and Blaine laughed heartily, for what felt like the first time in years. He returned to his laptop, smiling and feeling very much like old Blaine.

* * *

It didn't happen in an instant. It didn't happen in a day. It took longer than a week or two weeks or a month, but eventually, Blaine was able to wake up with a smile on his face. He had spent months waking up to the horrible realization that the past wasn't a nightmare; it was real. He really did lose Kurt. He really did _give_ Kurt away. Kurt was going to marry Erik and he, Blaine, was going to end up alone. This harsh reality that met him every morning was almost too much to bear. But he kept living and one day, as ordinary as any other, he woke up to the honking and yelling of New York City, and he smiled. The ache in his stomach that had been so prevalent for as long as he could remember was dull, barely there. He made himself a strong coffee and read scraps of poetry that Drew had left lying around the apartment. He breathed in and he breathed out. He was better. He was okay.

* * *

Cisco's wasn't exactly as "sophisticated" as Drew had described it. It was a slightly tacky bar and grill, complete with a pool table and dart board and red booths and waitresses in low-cut tops; but it was free of undergrads pretending to be 21, and there were no fog machines or strobe lights in sight, so, as he and Drew sat down in a booth, Blaine decided it could be much, much worse.

An hour and several beers later, when Blaine found himself dancing with a very cute girl, he felt more carefree than he had in years. Gone were his worries about flunking out of journalism school. Gone was his heartbreak over Kurt. Did he miss seeing Kurt and Erik and his family and friends and Evanston? Not one bit. He loved New York and Cisco's and Drew and this girl: Lynne was it? Brynn?

"Do you want to get a drink?" the blonde asked, and Blaine nodded, leading her over to the bar. Across the room, Drew watched with raised eyebrows, and made his way over to join them.

The bartender handed them two beers and Blaine was about to get to the punch line, that he was, in fact, completely gay, when Drew patted him on the back and said, "Found a cute guy to take home yet? I saw a tall one by the pool table who looked to be your type."

Blaine glared at Drew and the blonde choked on her drink, spewing beer all over Drew's shirt. She grabbed napkins and helped Drew clean himself up. Blaine laughed and explained himself, how he was really more likely to spend the night with a barstool than a girl. Apparently she wasn't too outraged, as she danced the next three songs with Drew, and Blaine sat watching from a booth, glad that he and Drew could still give each other hell and have a great time doing it.

The pair stopped dancing and joined Blaine in the booth, and Drew told one of his tragic, suffering poet jokes that Blaine had heard countless times. The blonde clearly hadn't, as she fell back against the booth laughing, looking at Drew with wide, happy eyes.

Deciding he had already made an ass of himself, Blaine said without shame, "I'm sorry, but I never did get your name."

The blonde laughed again, and replied, "You mean you didn't _remember_ my name?" Blaine nodded with a grin and she continued, "I'm Quinn. And you're Blaine and this is Drew," she said pointing the laughing fellow at her side.

Blaine smiled and said, "At least one of us was paying attention."

She mirrored his smile and replied, "Trust me, you're not the first gay guy I've tried to pick up at a bar. You probably won't be the last. No hard feelings, hon." She squeezed Blaine's hand before finishing her beer.

Drew subtly wrapped his arm around Quinn's shoulders and stated, "Blaine's pretty good at playing straight. He's broken many a heart, this one." Quinn chuckled and Blaine rolled his eyes, a retort already formed in his head.

Before he could reply, Quinn hopped to her feet and gave him a quick hug saying, "Well, boys, it's been an adventure. But this girl's got a seven o'clock wake up call tomorrow, so she's got to head for the hills." Drew's smile faded as Quinn reached over to hug him and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you around though. You guys are keepers." She flashed them one last grin and strutted out of the bar, leaving a very disappointed Drew, and a very amused Blaine, in her wake.

* * *

Exhausted and a bit tipsy, Kurt leaned against Erik for support as he struggled to unlock their front door. The boys laughed as they walked through their kitchen into the bedroom they shared, shedding clothes and recounting the best moments from the night.

They had reluctantly gone to a party for one of their friends at a pretty sketchy bar, but overall, the night had been a success. Their friends had oohed and ahhed over the boys new, matching engagement rings – a purchase they had made after their vow to turn over a new leaf, replacing Kurt's old ring, and the mixed emotions it evoked, with new bands – and Erik and Kurt had performed a karaoke rendition of "A Whole New World" that had brought the house down.

Erik was hanging his jacket in the closet and Kurt went over to their shared desk, noticing the message light flashing on their answering machine. After a loud beep, Blaine's voice filled the room. Erik dropped the pants he was folding and Kurt lost his balance, falling against the bedroom wall. They hadn't heard from Blaine in months. At first, he had been good about keeping them updated. The apartment was coming along nicely, thanks for asking. Drew tried and failed to pick up three different girls in a bar tonight, wish you were here to see it. I saw a dog wearing an argyle sweater and a man trying to eat his foot, crazy stuff. But after the first month, he drifted. Erik and Kurt continued to call him, trying their best to stay in touch, but they recognized that maybe space and time apart was exactly what he needed most.

So, as Blaine greeted them cheerfully from the desk, the pair was rightfully shocked. He sounded good, better than he had in recent memory. He joked about Katy Perry and trashed the Bears, for Erik's benefit, just like old times. Erik and Kurt made their way to the bed and sat side by side, listening to their dear friend with matching smiles.

When the message was over, Kurt leaned to rest his head on Erik's shoulder and said, "He sounded good, didn't he?" And Erik agreed. Something about hearing from Blaine, sounding happy and friendly and so normal, felt incredibly right. They talked for a while, wondering what Blaine was doing, who he was meeting in the Big Apple, hoping he was as happy as he sounded. Afterward, they crawled into bed, exchanged kisses and smiles and I love yous, and fell asleep, Kurt's head on Erik's broad chest.

They both slept soundly that night, better than they had in a long while.

* * *

They didn't plan it, really. There was, surprisingly, no scheming or strategizing or plotting involved, even though Drew was notorious for his mischief. They just happened to return to that same bar at the same time the following week. If Quinn happened to be there too, great! If not, great! Whatever. No planning.

Well...that's what Drew claimed. But Blaine saw right through it. He recognized the eager way Drew waited at the door before they left, outfit perfectly planned: not too casual, but careful not to look like he was trying too hard. Blaine thought it was sweet. How many times had he conveniently, casually run into Kurt, wearing his favorite, most flattering jeans and a casual yet classy sweater? Too many times. So, Blaine knew that Drew, the melodramatic poet, the eternal bachelor, had it bad.

Over the next few months, the three met up regularly, getting along so well they couldn't believe they had met her randomly in a bar. Quinn quickly became their third musketeer and Drew couldn't have been happier. As the weeks past, and Blaine got to see Quinn's quick wit and great sense of humor and big heart, and as he watched his best friend fall head over heels, Blaine thought how funny it was: they way life worked in the strangest ways to bring us exactly what we needed.


	3. Since I've given you away

**Summary: **AU Klaine. How do you heal a broken heart? Can you ever hope to erase the pain of love lost, fate ignored, destiny shattered? Do you stand a chance at healing when half of your heart lies in someone else's chest?  
**Author's Note:** Lyrics by The Oh Hellos. Blaine and Kurt are not mine but this universe is. This is a four-part sequel to the story Safe with Me, which you can find at my journal. _Please_ read Safe with Me first. I promise this will make a lot more sense if you do! :) Enjoy and please review and share your thoughts, good or bad. I'd love to hear from you! :)

* * *

**PART THREE**

**_Hello, my old heart  
It's been so long_** **_since I've given you away,_**

**_And every day I add another stone  
To the walls I built around you_**  
**_To keep you safe_**

**_Hello, my old heart  
How have you been?_**

**_How is it, being locked away?_**

* * *

"Now, are you sure it's wise for me to leave you kids here alone?" Blaine asked teasingly, as he put on his pea coat and ran his hands through his hair for probably the twelfth time that hour.

Drew and Quinn laughed from their spot on the puffy couch in the living room. They sat side-by-side, as close as they could possibly be without touching; the back of their hands brushing together now and then, sending thrilling thoughts through Drew's mind.

"Da-ad," Drew whined, adding an extra syllable to the word in his most childish voice, "you're embarrassing me!" Blaine chuckled and Quinn continued to laugh, the sound so pleasing to Drew's ears.

Quinn caught her breath and said jokingly, "Mr. Anderson, I'll make sure Drew doesn't burn the house down. I _promise._" Blaine smiled and headed for the door. He couldn't help but notice how perfect Drew and Quinn looked seated together, with their matching smiles and rosy cheeks and eyes full of hope.

"Have fun, you two," he said, waving and closing the door behind him. Blaine paused outside their apartment, his breath caught in his throat, his mind suddenly flooded with memories. Kurt singing a haunting French song. His tinkling laugh and beautiful smile and searching eyes. Kurt seated next to him, much as Quinn sat next to Drew; Kurt's hand brushing against his. The touch of Kurt's skin, of his lips. He shook his head, as if by doing so, he could erase all thoughts of Kurt. What Drew and Quinn had was so pure and exciting and new. He had every reason to be thrilled for Drew and for Quinn, two people who deserved more happiness and love than most people he knew. He didn't need to think of Kurt - and those years of hopeful gazes and blushed faces - every time he witnessed their affection. He didn't need to; he couldn't bear to, so he wouldn't.

Blaine looked back, the sound of Drew's laughter mixing with Quinn's coming through the door, and took a step forward. Progress. Tonight he was meeting fellow students from journalism school for dinner. He was branching out and meeting people and making friends. He would flirt and joke and make conversation. He would step out of his comfort zone. He would make progress. Tonight, Blaine would embrace the limitless possibilities of his future. He would survive without Kurt, and he would do a damn good job of it, too.

* * *

How many months he known her? Three? Four? Drew couldn't keep track. He felt as though his life had only truly begun that day in the bar, when he met the enchanting blonde who turned his life upside down.

How could he say how long he'd known her, when his life before seemed so insignificant since meeting her? How could he compare his lackluster days of bachelorhood to these days of hope and light and love? He couldn't; that was just the truth.

Blaine made fun of him constantly, calling to his attention the fact that he hadn't even _kissed her_, let alone declared his feelings. For all he knew, Quinn thought of him as a buddy, a pal. But, there was something undeniable in her gaze: something like longing and affection. There was a spark. Wasn't there?

* * *

Blaine had a secret. Well, actually, he had a lot of secrets. 1) He had woken up that morning and completely forgotten to miss Kurt. And it wasn't the first time. The thought made him sad, but also so very happy and hopeful. 2) He spent more time eating burnt toast and watching _I Love Lucy_ reruns than working on his school work, even thought it meant writing furiously into the early morning on the days he turned in drafts. 3) On those nights when he claimed to go out with his journalism school friends, he was lying. Completely deceiving his best friend and his newest gal pal, lying through his teeth, spewing utter nonsense. He wasn't meeting his journalism school friends. He was meeting a boy. Just the one boy; a boy he met at a coffee shop. A boy he had run right smack into, a boy who had spilled coffee all down his front and then spent hours making it up to him, helping him clean himself up and then entertaining him with stories of his childhood in Brooklyn and his fantastically insane mother and his bad boy past.

But, this wasn't the biggest secret of all. The biggest secret was 4) since he'd met said boy a month (had it really been a month?!) ago, Blaine couldn't stop thinking about him. Blaine dreamt of him and laughed to himself, remembering something he had said, and imagined sharing little moments of his day with him. Blaine _liked _him. And he was scared shitless.

* * *

Erik arrived to his marketing lecture early, in hopes of securing a good seat. After four years of struggling to avoid gum-poppers and pen-tappers and kids who just smelled funny, Erik decided it was worth losing a few minutes of sleep to listen to a lecture in peace. He eyed an empty row toward the front of the room, and made his way to a seat in the middle, dropping his backpack in front of him and pulling out his supplies.

Out of habit, he wrote the date and his name on the top of blank sheet of paper and set his pen down, looking around the lecture hall. It was practically empty. A woman was snoring quietly in the back row and a few other early students sat in random places around the room, eager, as he was, to get a good start. He checked his watch and sighed, class didn't start for another twenty-two minutes.

His mind began to wander and he smiled, remembering kissing Kurt goodbye. The boy had looked confused to be woken up so early and had whispered a goodbye, half asleep, wishing him luck on his first day. Erik twisted the band on his ring finger, picturing Kurt still asleep in their bed. His hair would be a mess – he recalled the first time Kurt had let him see his morning hair, terrified that Erik would be appalled at his unkempt appearance – and he would be mumbling in his sleep, as usual. He couldn't help but smile broadly whenever he thought of Kurt and how insanely lucky he was to be with him.

More students began trickling in as time went by and eventually, the seats near Erik filled as well. He spotted a few familiar faces, but no one he knew too well. _I guess I won't have any study buddies in this class_, he thought sadly, as someone sat down in the seat on his left. He turned to see who his new neighbor was and he was caught by surprise. Next to him was a man with dark hair and eyes, well built but not stocky, who, Erik imagined, if standing would be quite impressively tall. There was something about him that Erik couldn't quite place: had they met in one of their other classes? Had they been seated next to one another in a crowded restaurant? Surely, he knew this man from somewhere. There was just something about him: something interesting, something familiar. He couldn't help but stare as the man turned and smiled at Erik, a big, friendly grin.

"Well, you look promising," the man said as Erik sat, perplexed and intrigued. "Usually I get stuck sitting next to some pretty strange folks, but you look normal." Erik chuckled and made to speak, clearing his throat and coughing.

"No weird quirks, I promise." He replied, voice squeaking embarrassingly.

His neighbor laughed and said, "Me either. We'll stick together then." He smiled again and held out his hand for Erik to shake. "I'm David," he said. "David Karofsky."

* * *

It was a regular Thursday night. Quinn was sprawled across their living room floor, a pencil stuck behind one ear and hands covered in highlighter. She was studying for an exam and keeping Drew company while he tried, in vain, to finish another poem. Blaine was out with his new friends - which was so shocking and reminiscent of old Blaine, that Drew didn't even scold him for ditching his roommate and best friend - so Quinn and Drew had the apartment to themselves. They took occasional study breaks to talk about everything from high school memories and family history to where they could get the best tacos in New York (which happened to be quite the point of contention). Drew was reminded of why he was falling for the elusive and beautiful girl - who was currently humming the Star Wars theme - and was constantly awed at how they could spend hours together and not tire of one another. That _had _to mean something.

"Yikes, I need a break," Quinn said, flopping onto the couch and stretching her limbs. "Too much reading. Can't focus," she lamented, curling her legs under herself and looking at Drew eagerly.

"Is that your way of telling me to come and entertain you?" he queried with a smile, setting down his pen and crumpling up yet another failed attempt at poetry. Quinn nodded and he laughed. He went to the couch, plopping down next to her and asked, "And, your highness, how would you like to be entertained?"

Quinn scoffed and playfully pushed him, rolling her eyes. "You don't have to _entertain_ me. You can just talk to me. Or, better yet," she said, her eyes lighting up and a smile playing across her face, "I can help you! You can read me your poems and I'll critique them!"

Drew chuckled at her eagerness and said, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. They're terrible, really."

"They can't be that bad," Quinn argued, "You got into NYU, didn't you? That can't have been for nothing. So...please?" She looked up at Drew from under her long eyelashes and he shook his head.

"You're impossible." he said and she cheered, aware that she had won. "Okay...here goes," Drew began, and Quinn leaned forward in interest. "Roses are red," Quinn sighed but Drew continued, even louder, "Violets are blue, your name is Quinn and you smell like poo."

Drew laughed at his own joke as Quinn shook her head and tried not to smile. "Come on," she said, "I really want to hear one."

"Really?" Drew asked, his amusement still evident in his voice. Quinn nodded fervently so he got up and retrieved his notebook. "Fine, but I'm not promising anything good." Quinn returned to her position of eager listening and Drew read,

"Eyes clear, endless; my one true demise.  
Smile whose beauty rivals the sunrise..."

Drew looked up, meeting Quinn's engaged gaze and said, "And that's about all I've got for that one." He laughed and broke their eye contact, looking down at the page.

Quinn cleared her through and said quietly, "It's nice. It'll be better when it's finished, obviously." Drew laughed and brought his eyes up to meet hers. He saw something in them he didn't quite recognize, something sad. "Who's the girl?" She asked, looking down at her hands.

Drew took a breath, unsure how to respond. A voice in his head that sounded like a meaner, more sarcastic Blaine said, _Do you like this girl or not? It's so clearly about her. TELL HER!_ Unable to ignore the shouting and the tiny part of him that held out hope, he smiled shyly and said, "Let me give you a hint."

He closed his notebook, set it on the floor and turned to face Quinn. He tucked a strand of her golden hair behind her ear, and her brow furrowed.

"Wha-?" she began, but before she could finish, Drew's lips met hers, cutting her off. After a moment of shock and confusion and surprise, she responded in kind, one of her hands resting on his leg, the other on the back of his neck. They got lost in each other and smiled through their kisses, until finally, Quinn broke away, laughing. "I was _so_ ready to beat up whatever girl you were writing about." Drew laughed loudly and kissed her again, soft and quick.

"It's you." he said simply, and stroked her cheek, flushed from kissing. "Ever since you tried to pick up my gay best friend," he teased, and the lovely sound of Quinn's laugh encouraged him, "nobody else stood a chance." He sighed, looking into her eyes with love and adoration, saying, "It's always been you."

Quinn smiled and rested her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. "Oh, good," she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice, "because I'm not going anywhere."

Drew laughed and pulled her closer. _This is it; this is what I've been waiting for_, he thought, and smiled.

* * *

"While the white macadamia nut cookie is quite excellent, I must argue, Mr. Anderson," he said with a lilt, teasing Blaine mercilessly, "that the double chocolate chunk is far superior."

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "I don't care what you say, I sound _nothing_ like that!" The other boy laughed as Blaine said, "Tease me all you want, but I swear: I do _not_ take my taste in cookies too seriously."

His companion shook his head, arguing, "Seriously, the day we met you talked about cookies for a solid half an hour. That's thirty minutes, Blaine! That's a really long time to talk about cookies!" Blaine laughed, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he twiddled his thumbs.

"I guess I may have been a bit nervous," he said, looking up to meet his friend's warm brown eyes. "It's not every day you meet someone like you."

It was Sebastian's turn to blush, his face turning a shade of pink that Blaine found particularly attractive. "Well, ditto," Sebastian replied, smiling at Blaine. Before he could continue, his phone buzzed on the table and his eyes widened. He stood up quickly, knocking his chair back in the process, causing an old woman sitting behind them to squeal with shock. Blaine watched, amused, as Sebastian apologized, up-righted his chair, blushing again. "I'm sorry to eat and run, but I completely forgot I have a committee meeting in an hour and I haven't even started my presentation." Blaine looked concerned, so he went on, "Don't worry, I do this every time."

Sebastian left a ten-dollar bill on the table, and told Blaine, "It's on me." Blaine thanked him and Sebastian turned to go. He had made it halfway to the door when Blaine called out to him.

"But, Sebastian?" he said with a smirk, "next time it's dinner and it's _my_ treat." Sebastian's smile widened and he nodded, turning around and exiting the coffee shop with, if Blaine wasn't mistaken, an extra spring in his step.

The woman at the next table turned to Blaine and said in her adorable, squeaky voice, "Snatch that one up while you can, honey. A looker like that won't be single long." Blaine laughed, the blush still staining his face, and thanked her for the advice.

He had done it! He had kind of, maybe, in a way asked Sebastian out! This really was progress. He couldn't help but beam as he walked back to his apartment, humming to himself.

The past few weeks with Sebastian had been refreshing. He was different from anyone Blaine had ever met, _good_ different. Born and bred in New York, his snarky attitude and stunning smile left Blaine floored. The two could talk for hours about anything, and, on many occasions, had done just that. It felt easy, natural. He had approached the friendship with caution, but found that it wasn't necessary. Sebastian really _was_ as good inside as he looked on the outside. He admitted to being a bit of a jerk in high school, but the two boys chalked it up to fear and confusion. When he had come out his junior year, he said he really turned a corner, and Blaine believed him. Everyone had skeletons in their closets, right? He certainly wasn't qualified to judge anyone for his morality or his past. He took Sebastian's in stride just as Sebastian had done for him. Blaine detailed the whole Kurt and Erik charade to Sebastian over the course of a few days, explaining all the wonderful parts and the gory bits; the love and the tears and the betrayal. Sebastian nodded at the right times and looked appropriately shocked when necessary. Blaine felt that he really understood and cared. And that, after all this time, felt great.

As he took the stairs up to his apartment two at a time, he marveled at his good luck. Sebastian was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man he had ever met. He was funny and nice and charming and, come on: that smile!? Blaine could feel his cheeks pinking again and he laughed at himself. Oh, how quickly he could turn into a blubbering, lovesick puppy.

Crossing the threshold into the home he shared with Drew, Blaine checked his phone and found that he had missed a call and received a voicemail. Apparently, he had really been distracted enough to completely miss his phone ringing on his walk home. _Typical_, he thought, _already letting fantasies cause problems in your real life. Smooth Blaine, real smooth._

Dialing his voicemail, he plopped down at the kitchen table and greeted Drew, who was sprawled out on the couch in the next room, scribbling in his notebook.

_"_You have one new message," the automated voice informed Blaine as he doodled on a piece of scratch paper, distracted.

"Hey Blaine, it's me," the crackly voice of Sebastian greeted him, and Blaine dropped his pen in surprise. Sebastian laughed and Blaine heard the sound of the wind whistling into his phone as the boy said, "I guess you might not know who 'me' is, but I hope you do. In case you don't, it's Sebastian." Blaine smiled widely and laughed. "God, I'm terrible at messages, really. This is why we talk in person. Sheesh." Blaine laughed louder, and Drew gave up his poetry to eavesdrop on his friend, the laughter making him curious. "I just wanted to call and tell you what a great time I had today. And, well…" Blaine heard traffic noises and the beep of a car horn, his breath caught, hanging on Sebastian's every word. "I wanted you to know that I'm going to hold you to what you said. You owe me dinner, Blaine." Blaine beamed and Drew's raised his eyebrows, a question evident on his face. "So, don't worry. You'll be seeing me around." Blaine heard a beep and the automated voice detailed all of his options for saving or deleting or repeating his message as he sat, smiling widely, and resisting the temptation to jump up and down.

Drew sat down next to him, eyes wide, and said urgently, "Are you really going to make me ask? Who was that?!"

Blaine laughed and said giddily, "A guy." Drew's eyes got wider still and a mix of confusion and excitement was written on his face. "Drew, I met a guy. And I kind of asked him out." Drew's confusion disappeared and his face broke into a grin as he jumped out of his chair and punched the air. "And he said yes." Drew cheered and pulled Blaine up for a hug.

"Of _course_ he said yes! Wahooo!" Drew danced around a bit and then ran to his phone, crying, "I have to call Quinn, she's going to flip!"

Blaine collapsed into his chair, exhausted and excited, and marveled at his incredible happiness. He redialed his voicemail and played Sebastian's message again, closing his eyes to picture the boy's face as he said the words, imagined his eyes and could hear his smile in his voice, bright and beautiful. It had been a very good day.


	4. Set your old heart free

**Summary: **AU Klaine. How do you heal a broken heart? Can you ever hope to erase the pain of love lost, fate ignored, destiny shattered? Do you stand a chance at healing when half of your heart lies in someone else's chest?  
**Author's Note:** Lyrics by The Oh Hellos. Blaine and Kurt are not mine but this universe is. This is a four-part sequel to the story Safe with Me, which you can find at my journal. _Please_ read Safe with Me first. I promise this will make a lot more sense if you do! :) Enjoy and please review and share your thoughts, good or bad. I'd love to hear from you! :) If you've made it this far, thanks for sticking with me! Final author's note after the chapter...

* * *

**PART FOUR**

**_Well, don't you worry_**

**_In there, you're safe,_**

**_And it's true, you'll never beat  
But you'll never break_**

* * *

Blaine wasn't quite sure how it had happened - and later, when discussing it, both boys would claim that they had been the one to start it - but he did know that he was enjoying kissing Sebastian quite a lot.

Ever since he had worked up the courage to ask Sebastian out, and after he listened to his voicemail response more times than he cared to admit, Blaine was smitten. The two boys were inseparable, spending every day that they could together. Sebastian held Blaine to his offer of dinner, and the two shared a meal at a cozy Italian place halfway between their apartments. After dinner, which Blaine paid for with a smirk, they walked a few blocks over to a tea room – recommended to them by Drew, who may or may not have claimed it was a perfect make-out spot – and Sebastian, surprising them both, reached for Blaine's hand. Blaine met Sebastian's sweet, hopeful eyes and squeezed his hand in his own, returning the smile that spread across Sebastian's face. They found a private room in the tea house and spent hours talking and flirting and laughing as their tea sat untouched, getting cold in their cups. Eventually, they were forced to confront the New York air once more but both boys lingered, not wanting the evening to be over.

Sebastian insisted he walk Blaine home and, after a particularly strong gust of wind, took the cold as an excuse to wrap his arm around Blaine's shoulder, finding that he was, in fact, the perfect height to do so. Blaine fit so naturally into Sebastian's arm, they both wondered why it had taken them so long to figure it out. Nearing Blaine's street, they walked as slowly as possible, taking detour after detour. Sebastian pointed out some of his favorite spots to Blaine, who spent as much time eyeing the face of the beautiful boy next to him as observing the sights. Once the first signs of dawn appeared and the street lights flickered off, the sky turning a beautiful shade of pink, they could dawdle no longer. Sebastian walked Blaine to his door and the two stood, holding hands and leaning against the hallway wall, smiling at one another.

Sebastian stepped in closer and Blaine, breath caught in his throat, gazed up into his beautiful brown eyes as he leaned down and slowly, softly brushed his lips against Blaine's cheek. He stepped back and smiled once more, whispered a goodbye and left Blaine, utterly charmed, in his wake.

By the time Sebastian made it to his flat, less than a mile away, he had received a voicemail from Blaine who, three day rule be damned, had wished him sweet dreams and thanked him for a lovely evening. Both boys went to sleep, minds flooded with thoughts of the other.

Their second date went similarly well, only with Thai food this time, ending with Sebastian walking Blaine home and leaving him with a kiss on the cheek and a smile.

When they made plans for their third date, Blaine suggested they take a walk through Central Park on a Saturday afternoon, in a departure from their usual routine. They met at a coffee shop – the shop where they had met, and was quickly becoming "their place" – and walked, fingers intertwined and matching smiles on their faces, until they found a quiet bench where they could be alone and enjoy the March air. They sat as close as possible, their whole sides touching, causing both boys to wish that fewer layers of winter clothes were separating them.

Somewhere between Blaine's story of being bullied in school to Sebastian's reluctant confession that he cried every time he watched _It's a Wonderful Life_, they found a way to sit even closer together and, before long, Sebastian's lips were on Blaine's - or Blaine's were on Sebastian's – and they were lost in each other. Blaine could hardly think, struggled to get his lips to move, to match the rhythm of Sebastian's, his heart was so full and his mood so giddy. They held each other and eventually their kisses slowed, softer and less urgent, both boys smiling as they pulled apart. Sebastian kept his hand on Blaine's cheek and gently stroked it as Blaine's smiled deepened.

"You have _no _idea how long I've wanted to do that," Sebastian said, his eyes bright and carefree.

Blaine blushed a lovely pink color and replied, "I might know better than you think." Sebastian moved to put his arm around Blaine and Blaine settled into the crook of Sebastian's shoulder, his new favorite spot.

They sat that way for a while, sharing quick kisses, critiquing the outfits of the passing joggers, quizzing each other on their childhood memories and pets' names and deepest, darkest fears. Hours passed and Blaine asked if this meant he could tell his friends he had a boyfriend now, and Sebastian agreed, laughing and smiling, both boys feeling blissfully, effortlessly happy. When Sebastian suggested they go make themselves some lunch, Blaine resisted, not in any way eager to leave his place under Sebastian's arm or their bench or the bubble that seemed to hold them together, apart from the rest of the world, whenever they were alone. Blaine gave in eventually, but only after Sebastian promised they would return to the bench the following day, this time with books and papers so they could at least attempt to be scholarly.

As they bustled around Sebastian's kitchen, preparing grilled cheese and tomato soup, Blaine took the chance to sneak glances at Sebastian, who hummed an unrecognizable, happy tune while stirring their soup. Sebastian looked up, feeling Blaine's gaze, and met his glance, smiling such a happy smile that his eyes crinkled and Blaine couldn't help but smile in return. In that moment, with his new boyfriend_ – _even _thinking_ the word was unbelievably exciting - Blaine couldn't imagine any place on Earth he would rather be.

* * *

Blaine's happiness hadn't escaped Drew's notice. Since the day Drew had eavesdropped as Blaine played Sebastian's message over and over, Blaine had been different. His jokes had been funnier, his smiles more sincere. He wasn't just trying to be happy; he _was_ happy. And Drew was ecstatic. He had been dating Quinn – almost literally the girl of his dreams – for a few months, and things were going swimmingly. They had celebrated their first Christmas together – Quinn adored the book of his own poetry Drew gave her, and Drew had taken an equal shining the framed pictures of the two of them, and one with Blaine, too, that Quinn gave him in return – and, before they knew it, they were shopping for their first Valentine's Day. Quinn had even seen Drew cry as they watched a sad commercial about an elderly man being rushed to the hospital; although he claimed he had something stuck in his eye, Quinn knew better. They squabbled and fought about who had better taste in music and whether Drew should interfere and force Blaine to tell Sebastian how he felt, but Drew found that he enjoyed fighting with Quinn almost as much as the rest of it. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, in such a good way. When Blaine came home one night, starry-eyed and pink-cheeked, describing how he and Sebastian were boyfriends and had talked for hours and had _kissed_, Drew jumped up with such eagerness that he knocked a few pictures from their walls. Finally, _finally_, he could be happy without a hint of guilt, because Blaine, his best friend in the world, was happy, too.

* * *

_Kurt gazed back at Blaine, speechless and Blaine continued, "I can't help it. I just…" Blaine heaved another sigh, "I just know that I will never stop loving you."_

Kurt sat up in bed with a shout, the back of his neck breaking out in a cold sweat. He looked around, disoriented and took in his surroundings: Erik, asleep next to him in the bed they shared, his favorite trench coat draping over the chair by his desk, the lights of Evanston barely visible behind their striped curtains. Blaine was in New York, hours away, likely sleeping just as Erik was; Kurt hadn't really heard his voice, it had been a dream, _a dream_, he told himself.

But it felt so real.

Blaine's words crept into Kurt's head at unexpected times. He would hear Blaine's laugh and whip his head around, only to see that it was coming from a middle aged bald man, or a teenage girl. He could hear Blaine's voice in his ear, commenting on a woman's cute blouse or a new annoyingly catchy pop song on the radio. He saw Blaine everywhere: on the streets and in his classes and in crowded rooms. It had Blaine who ran away, who high-tailed it to the East Coast, but, as it turned out, it was Kurt who really needed to escape the past.

He lay back down, resting his head on Erik's chest and, instinctually, Erik's arm wrapped around Kurt's side. He instantly felt better; in Erik's arms he was always safer, more at peace. In Erik's arms, he was home.

And yet, as he tried and failed to fall back into a peaceful sleep, he couldn't help but wonder if Blaine had really meant it. If 'never' meant what it was supposed to. If, hours away, asleep in his own bed, Blaine still loved Kurt. If he had been true to his word and never stopped.

* * *

**_Nothing lasts forever  
Some things aren't meant to be_**

* * *

"I'd have to say…never eat a hamburger again." Quinn said, taking a sip of her soda as Drew gasped in shock and horror.

"No!" he cried, "You can't possibly be my girlfriend and voluntarily give up hamburgers!" Blaine and Sebastian, who sat holding hands in the seat across from the debating couple, exchanged a bemused glance and laughed along with Quinn, who was rolling her eyes.

"It's a hypothetical situation, Drew. I'm not _actually_ giving up hamburgers." She said, making a face at the boys sitting opposite her. He scoffed in response and crossed his hands over his chest, looking dejected. Quinn gave him a small shove and smiled at him, adding, "I'd choose _you_ over hamburgers, too, you know. And that's saying something: I really love hamburgers."

He rolled his eyes and replied melodramatically, "Whatever, Quinn. You're dead to me." His three companions laughed and he turned to Blaine and winked, snaking his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder, who looked as though she couldn't quite believe she put up with such a character.

It was their third or fourth double date and the foursome had found that they got along with surprising ease. Conversation was never stilted and, since Blaine and Drew knew each other better than anyone, both couples felt quite comfortable together. They had made it a semi-weekly tradition. Whether it was ordering in and playing Monopoly – which ended in Drew throwing a pillow at the board and scattering everyone's hotels across the floor – or going to dinner or having a movie marathon, the four always had a blast. Quite often, they ended up laughing until they cried over Sebastian's stories of working on a cruise ship or Quinn's pictures of her horrible high school haircut or Drew's typical, ridiculous antics.

April blew through New York with more rain then seemed possible and May followed as quickly, bringing flowers and sunny days and, Blaine had exclaimed eagerly, "shorts weather!" Before they new it, summer had arrived and Sebastian invited them all to his parents' vacation home in Maine. They spent their days on the beach, alternating between books for school and trashy magazines, swimming in the ocean and playing volleyball on the sand. At night, they explored the city around the house, dancing and drinking and laughing. The two weeks they spent there flew by, and they vowed to return the next year – which, of course, sent slightly panicked, mostly happy thoughts of _he thinks we'll be together next year?!_ through Blaine's head. They returned, tanned and freckled, to the city, and with it their normal routines. Blaine and Drew sat one night in their living room with Quinn asleep on the couch and remarked at what a year it had been for the both of them. They had done just as they planned: taken New York by storm. But they had never anticipated the happiness and companionship they would find in the process.

* * *

Quinn had always loved August. The hot sun and the end of summer sales and the impending fall, with its fresh starts and new beginnings. But this August she loved more than others. This August, she was in love and she wanted the world to know it.

When she went into Cisco's that night, she had been trying to forget about a particularly horrible string of events: a failed exam and a disastrous date and the feeling that coming to New York had been a huge mistake. She was instantly struck by the gorgeous the man in glasses and a holey sweater, with his loud laugh and bright smile and effervescent energy. So, naturally, she chatted up his cute, curly-haired companion in the hopes of a casual introduction. She didn't know she was meeting her future best friends, her future boyfriend, her future love. She just knew that she was distracting herself the best way she knew how: with beer and small talk and dancing.

Drew had brought her more happiness than she knew she could feel. While _he_ was the poet, she felt that, if anyone had confronted her and forced her, on the spot, to write a sonnet, she could have done so with remarkable ability, so swept up was she with her feelings and her hopes and her love.

She and Drew planned a getaway to the house in Maine they had visited earlier in the summer. Sebastian had told Drew that it usually sat empty for most of the late summer and early fall, while all of his family members fell back into their usual routines. He was more than willing to hand his keys to Drew and send them on their way.

Quinn and Drew held hands with their toes dangling into the ocean and walked along the beach, imagining that one day, they could bring their children here. Drew collected shells and, after each new discovery, ran eagerly back to Quinn to show her what he'd found. Quinn laughed and accepted each shell, smiling every time at his eagerness, how he was so unafraid to wear his every emotion on his sleeve. They made love in the king sized bed that overlooked the coast and each dreamt of tiny tots with Quinn's blonde hair and smile and Drew's green eyes and big laugh.

On their last day, Drew surprised Quinn with her favorite meal, his home cooked spaghetti, and a bouquet of wildflowers; roses, he said, were overdone and couldn't capture the carefree beauty he saw in Quinn every day. They ate slowly, drinking wine and holding hands across the table and sharing kisses between bites. When Drew bent down to grab the napkin that had fallen to the floor and came up on one knee, with a ring in his hand and a question on his lips, Quinn felt her eyes fill with the happiest tears she had ever known. She smiled and had barely agreed when Drew swept her into his arms, lifted her off the ground and twirled her around in circles, whispering, "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou" in her ear.

He put the ring on her finger and they walked, fingers intertwined, onto the beach, where night had fallen and the stars had made an appearance in the night sky. They slipped out of their clothes and they ran screaming into the cold water, Quinn's diamond glinting in the moonlight. Drew pulled Quinn into his arms again and kissed her over and over and over, smiling widely the whole time. He swam into the open sea and yelled at the top of his lungs, "SHE SAID YES!" while Quinn watched and laughed, so hopelessly in love.

When they reached the shore, they made phone calls to anyone and everyone who would care: their parents and their old friends from college and Blaine, who congratulated with Drew with overflowing enthusiasm and promised Quinn that he would help her plan the most beautiful wedding possible.

They collapsed onto the bed, sand caught between their toes and hair smelling of ocean, cheeks sore from smiling and hearts full of love.

* * *

Erik felt guiltier than he ever imagined he could feel.

Sure, he felt awful when he realized that he was keeping Blaine from his best chance at happiness. Yes, when he had lied to his sixth grade teacher about why he hadn't done his homework, he had a stomachache for days. He had never been good at deception or selfishness; it just wasn't in him. He told the truth and he cared about people, _genuinely_ cared. He looked out for the best for other people before himself and he saw the good in everything. He didn't plan it and he didn't want it but he couldn't help it: he couldn't stop thinking about Dave.

At first, they were friends, nothing more. They studied together every week and went to lunch after their marketing lectures. They talked and talked for hours on end; Erik had even shared details of his engagement with Dave, explaining his love for the fair-skinned boy he left behind every morning. Dave had entertained Erik with stories of how he tried his best to be straight, but just couldn't deny what had always been inside him and Erik laughed and nodded and sympathized, listening well, true to form; he had always been a good listener.

The months passed and Erik found that he missed Dave when he wasn't around, that he would imagine how Dave would react to different things he encountered in his daily life, like the cat lady who lived across the street or the strange noise that was coming from his refrigerator. Whenever he read an article that made him think or met a new, interesting person or watched a good movie, he resisted the urge to call Dave and tell him all about it. Instead, he shared these bits of his life with Kurt, shaming himself for not immediately thinking to do so. He loved Kurt, he did, but he couldn't banish Dave from his thoughts; couldn't erase the mark he had left, couldn't alter the place Dave had invaded in his heart.

As it was summer, and they didn't have class to bring them together, Dave and Erik had to find excuses to see each other. They watched soccer matches and tried to find the perfect pair of swim trunks and shared meals and drinks and laughs. Never mind that neither boy was quite fond of soccer or planned on going swimming any time soon or really needed those meals or drinks or laughs.

When it happened, no part of it felt hurtful or wrong. On the contrary, it felt like the most natural, right thing they had ever done. When he and Dave had found themselves sitting awfully close together on Dave's couch, laughing as they recalled their marketing teacher's horrible taste in shoe/sock combinations, they didn't think anything of it. When Dave leaned in close, his eyes searching and full of some unidentifiable need, Erik had no choice but to meet him halfway. When their lips crashed together, full of longing and passion, tongues swirling and hands pulling and love and lust filling Erik's mind, it didn't feel like a mistake. It felt like a dip in a cool pool on a hot day, like being wrapped in a warm blanket, fresh out of the drier. It felt like everything good and nothing bad and Erik was soaring and Dave was with him and Kurt? Kurt who?! It was the farthest thing from his mind. All he saw and all he felt was Dave, Dave, Dave.

* * *

Blaine had been shy and embarrassed and scared the first time he spent the night at Sebastian's. But he needn't have worried. They had talked about it for months and kept no secrets; they wanted to know each other as well as they knew themselves. Sebastian understood what it meant to Blaine, to open himself so fully, to trust so openly. He knew that Blaine had been devastated by love in the past, and he vowed to never let Blaine feel that again.

They had returned home from a romantic dinner and could barely keep their hands off of each other. Their lips met the instant the walked into Sebastian's apartment, the door falling shut behind them, their coast strewn, forgotten, on the floor. Sebastian's touch left streaks of heat and goose bumps on Blaine's flesh and, with his lips and eyes and hands, he showed Sebastian that he was ready. Without a word, Sebastian took his hand and led him into his bedroom, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy and leaning down to capture his soft lips with his own. There was a new urgency, a fire that had been ignited, sending shivers down Blaine's spine. Their fingers lightly stroked and pulled until they were both bare-chested, their bodies colliding, skin on skin, lips on lips, Blaine feeling more alive then ever before. Sebastian hands reached the small of Blaine's back and his fingers swirled circles on his skin, while Blaine tickled the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Sebastian hesitated, looking into Blaine's eyes, checking for reservation or doubt or fear. Seeing nothing but love, lust and fire, he brought his lips down to Blaine's again and said quietly, for the second time that night, "I love you." And Blaine, for the first time, reached up to stroke Sebastian's face and replied in kind.

"I love you, too."

Sebastian's lips captured Blaine's in response and the fire returned as they were lost, once again, in each other.

**_But you'll never find the answer  
Until you set your old heart free_**

**_Until you set your old heart free_**

* * *

**_The End_**

**Authors's Note: **Thanks for reading! Please comment and tell me how you liked it - your reviews are my drug :) As I outlined in an Author's Note I wrote eons ago, this is a the second story in a trilogy, starting with Safe With Me (which you hopefully know haha). I am currently writing the third and final story - which is currently a beginning and an ending and nothing more...so let's say it's a work in progress! - and will be posting it as soon as I can. As always, thanks for reading!


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